


A Dozen Spells and Coffee Recipes

by borntomkehistory



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Background Relationships, Friends to Lovers, I have no self control, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borntomkehistory/pseuds/borntomkehistory
Summary: People get their soulmates when writing appears on their arms. It can happen at any age and Craig is the only one in his class who has not received any indication of possessing a soulmate, or so he thought. It was in class when scribbled handwriting suddenly appeared on his arm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm literally on a Creek kick... A.K.A I have zero self-control. This soulmate AU has probably been done before, but I think this prompt really fits these characters. 
> 
> _( Writing Soulmate AU! When you write on your skin the same mark appears in the same place as your soulmates. Such as if you doodle on your skin your soulmates get those doodles on their skin.) ___
> 
> __Enjoy!_ _

...

 

Everyone had a soulmate.

At any point in their life they will get an indication of their soulmates by marks appearing on their skins; whether drawings, words, cuts, or bruises.

That being said, Craig Tucker _hated— loathed_ the idea of one day being bounded by fate to a stranger he did not know.

Maybe he was a skeptic, but never has he seen people together by love. Take his parents, for example, Craig was pretty sure they hated each other; as they never wrote messages on their arms to the other ladder. In fact, he was convinced that most adults in South Park were only together for the sake of not being pathetically alone. Walking around with soured looks on their faces.

At one point Craig was convinced the whole soulmate thing was bullshit until he saw it for himself.

_“Craig! Look!” A younger Clyde had run up towards him during draw time in their second-grade class, gripping his arm as if he was in agony but chubby face saying otherwise; cheeks holding a smile stretching from ear to ear._

_“Guess what?!” The boy stopped in front of his desk, causing the small container of glitter to shift, threatening to spill over._

_Their teacher at the time watched the boys from her desk, disliking kids so by default disliking her students; she especially disliked Craig. What a disrespectful boy he was, always earning a phone call or a note home to his parents._

_“What?” Craig deadpanned, entertaining his best and only friend in the class. The feeling of the teacher's eyes on them cause his mischievous heart to grow with joy while he internally gave her the finger._

_Back to Clyde, he extended his arm out over his work, soft flesh displaying to what looked like mark created with purple marker. Starting from his wrist then trailing out to the croak of his elbow._

_“So?” Craig nasally voice sounding seemingly unimpressed by what he was being shown._

_Even at a young age, he was always soft on Clyde. Not because he wanted to be nice but because Clyde was known to be the biggest crybaby. Any slight shift in tone could set off the waterworks._

_“I got my soulmate! Look!” His toothy smile with the exception of his three of his front teeth which had fallen out, beamed with pride._

_All Craig saw was purple marker._

_“That’s cool,” said he, resuming his artwork._

_Clyde's face fell as he failed to hide the way his lip wobbled. He wanted Craig to be just as excited at him, instead of arguing with his friend he returned to his seat; shoulders hunched over in a state of temporary depression._

_He was like that the whole day. From recess to lunch, to their commute back home; though Craig knew it was an act from the start and his suspicions were confirmed when he was on the bus cracking jokes with Kyle’s gang._

_When Craig returned home, the first question he asked his parents was:_

_“When will I get my soulmate?”_

_Both parents falling into a silence. His father, Thomas Tucker, and mother, Tricia Tucker pausing their individual activities to attend to the curious mind of their seven-year-old son._

_“Well, we don’t know, Craig. It just happens,” said Tricia, not far from the truth._

_No one knew when they were going to get a sign from their soulmate. It can happen from as young as six to as old as 18. Everyone had a soulmate, but they got them at different points in childhood and adolescence._

_Craig was not pleased with her answer. He did not need an indefinite answer but one for certain._

_His idea was if he got in contact with his soulmate quicker he will be able to tell them he was not interested._

_..._

 

Entering their second year of high school, nearly everyone in his class had their soulmates.

Craig having to suppress his eye rolls when he will see groups of girls giggling in their circles, showing off the writing on their arms. Even some of the guys were guilty of the same behavior.

Now for instance, when Craig had grabbed his usual seat in the back of the classroom, Kyle and Stan were sitting in from of him like they usually do; everyone knew those two were soulmates from a young age besides the fact they were practically inseparable. In class, they would write lovey messages on their arms— according to Kenny who for some reason informed Craig in the middle of their transition break.

It was nauseating if Craig was to say so himself. He had nothing against love—against love that occurred _naturally._ In his mind, nothing was natural about being bonded to a stranger and hoping to love them back. Craig did not want the painstaking task of loving someone, being there for every waking call.

He must have been noticeably staring at the couple in front because on his right side he felt something sharp poke into him.

“Ow, Dude.”

It was Clyde, his best friend from childhood who had appeared with Token by his side, taking his seat. As always he sported his smug grin, with newly acquired writing on his forearm.

Right away Craig knew what he was going to say, shooting an intimidating glare before he opened his big mouth.

“Look what Bebe wrote,” he threw his arm in Craig’s face, making the boy go temporarily crossed eye with how close it was.

In the fourth grade, Clyde was convinced his soulmate had been Bebe all along. The frizzy-haired blonde with a massive set of tits. He spoiled the shit out of her; buying her shoes, clothes, makeup, all before Bebe had confirmed it herself.

Everyone had been suspicious, even Token and Craig who knew how prone the boy was to getting himself hurt. While soulmates supposedly wrote to their partners at any point of the day, Clyde was the only one visibly writing in their “relationship”, never Bebe who owned up to the writing the message even though she often hesitated.

Another part of the soulmate deal was that the other could not only write and have it appear on others skin, but they could sometimes experience any cut or bruise received on any end. One day when Clyde was wearing shorts, a big purple bruise appeared on the side of his knee; which was odd because Bebe was always careful to keep herself injury free. Clyde was convinced Bebe had somehow earned the bruise, coming in the next day with ice packs and chocolates at hand.

Bebe was wearing a dress that day. There was zero indication of a bruise ever being near her knee.

“Alright, class, settle down,” said their teacher while writing today’s notes on the board.

Everyone’s eyes stationed forward, even Craig who thought school was a complete waste of time. Though he couldn’t concentrate with Stan and Kyles consist fidgeting, earning an eye roll from the observer.

_Who could I fuck around with?_ Craig wondered, growing bored with the talk of ancient dynasties. At least make the lecture not sound like a bad textbook recital.

“Psst, Craig,” Clyde tapped on his desk with his pencil.

“Mr. Donovan is there a problem?” All eyes were at the two, but mostly at Clyde.

“N-No sir- I mean, Ma’am!”

The class broke into collective laughter. Clyde could be such an idiot at times.

“Please do pay attention,” she instructed, resuming where she left off. Clyde did not try to get Craig’s attention again much to his relief.

Now 20 minutes into the class it was a miracle Craig was still awake. His eyes downcast at his page covered in bad doodles.

Moving his pencil, he noticed something that was not there a few moments ago; bad handwriting appearing on his wrist. It was alarming, to say the least.

 

_One clove garlic._

_Two stakes._

_~~Silver~~ \- _ _no that’s for werewolves._

 

_The fuck?_ Craig thought, coming back to the world when his environment changed with people packing their bags to head to lunch.

“Yo, Craig, Do you want-“

Craig shot up, concealing his wrist with his opposite hand while sprinting from the class; leaving behind a confused Token, Clyde, Stan, and Kyle who were just about to invite him out to lunch. Since Stan was 16 he had his learners permit and was allowed to drive back and forth from school. They were all going to that diner.

Missing the invite, Craig rushed to the bathroom, bulldozing his way through students while muttering unheard apologies.

Once at his destination, Craig tossed his bag to the side, warning anyone in the bathroom to piss off. Luckily it was only a few freshman who hastily left with zippers still down. Being a sophomore Craig did not have much superiority, but he was able to make some freshman piss their pants at any given moment.

Clear of any prying eyes, he hurried to turn on the sink, turning it up to scorching hot water. He rubbed at the writing with soap until his skin turned red and dried.

Why wasn’t it coming off? He did this consistently for a good 20 minutes, writing still as clear as day.

Unsure if he should scream, cry, or punch another school mirror, he settled for a thinned lip expression; too proud to admit his defeat so opting to throw on his jacket instead.

“Craig? Are you in here?” In came Clyde at the door. He was always concerned about Craig— though he kept it to himself. Especially since he was the only one in their class without a soulmate, so being Clyde he always pointed Craig’s attitude towards that fact, and how he’s been jealous ever since they were kids. It was okay. He was just a late bloomer.

“Are you good?”

Clyde following Craig moves around with his eyes. He awkwardly shifted from heel to heel, not wanting to catch any of his potential wrath.

“Just gas,” was his lie, even though Clyde could clearly see the faint trace of tears on his cheeks and the water dripping off his fingers.

“Shit. It must be painful then.”

He couldn’t help but offer a sincere laugh, grateful for Clyde inability to read between the lines. His naivety could at times be a blessing or a curse.

“Hurry up, shithead. We’re all waiting for you.”

Clyde patted him on the back, leading him towards the group patiently waiting for them to rejoin.

 

 

The same night, Craig took another look at his arm, rubbing over it with only two fingers.

Just like that it vanished, showing no sign of ever being here in the first place. Thank god, he could breathe again.

Turning the bathroom light off and trekking to his room, his body flopped on his springy bed.

Going to sleep he could not shake the uneasy feeling in his chest.

...

 

At the three day mark, Craig could comfortably say it was all in his head.

As he enjoyed a less than pleasant meal in the cafeteria while listening to Stan bitch about getting his car privileges revoked due to the fact he totally wrecked it the other day.

“My mom is being such a bitch,” Stan confessed, using one of Cartman’s one-liners.

“Stan, you totally know this is your fault, right?” Kyle asked, using his condescending tone with his eyebrows raised, reading: _you know I’m right._ He was growing more and more into his mother every day.

“I didn’t see that car coming!”

“You ran through a red light!”

They were always like this, bickering like an old married couple. When they were kids it was amusing, now it just felt uncomfortable; almost like they were all intruding on a private conversation.

“What’s up, fags?” Cartman appeared with his fat arms already crossed over his chest, “and Jew fags,” as always taking a stab at Kyles religious upbringings.

“Shut the fuck up, fatass.”

The table's occupants groaned. If they had to sit through another Kyle and Cartman fight they were going to stab themselves with their plastic forks; and inside joke between Craig, Clyde, and Token was that they were going to kill themselves together when those two were near.

Craig had long tuned out, focusing his attention on his bites. The sandwich tasted like absolute shit but what else was new?

“Hey, Whats that?” Clyde leaned in to speak to Craig in a hushed whisper. Eyes darting down to the black words appearing on his arm.

Is that? Clyde's eyes widen, mid-scream before Craig realized what was happening.

Really? Right now? Craig grabbed his jacket, and he guess Clyde who would surely any opportunity to blabber to the other boys about this new development.

_“Guys! Craig finally got his soulmate!”_

Craig could hear him now. He cringed.

He beckoned Clyde over to the more secluded side of the hallway, refusing to come to terms with the fact that some unlucky fucker had him as a soulmate; also completely ignoring the fact that Craig did not want a soulmate to begin with.

“Now, Clyde,” voice holding its usual levelness, his hands motioning downwards to show they were going to have a quiet _and_ calm discussion.

“You got your soulmate! Why didn’t-“

He covered a hand over his mouth, hissing for him to hush while looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

“Shut up, dumbass!” Craig sighed upon seeing his brown eyes swell with tears.

“I’m sorry, Alright?”

He backed off, Craig and Clyde now eye to eye despite Clyde being a few inches taller. His knees were bent.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Only Clyde could be the one happy at Craig’s expense.

He grabbed his arm, pulling it close so he could read.

 

_Vanilla syrup_

_Cinnamon_

_Honey_

 

“Dude, what?” Even Clyde was confused. Usually, soulmates communicate messages of love. This looked like someone’s grocery list.

“I don’t know,” Craig kicked the wall to relieve his frustration, “you can’t tell anyone. I mean it, Donovan.” Asserting how serious he was by pointing a finger at him.

“C’mon, my lips are sealed,” Clyde pretended to zip his lips with an imagery zipper, “see?”

“You’re not supposed to talk, idiot.”

“Fuck off, you know what I mean!”

Unconvinced with his promise, he gave his friend the benefit of the doubt.

What a mistake that was.

...

 

By the end of the school class, the whole grade was buzzing with new information of Craig finally getting his soulmate.

It was like a girl getting her period, blossoming into womanhood; or a guy getting his first set of pubes. It was fucking weird and Craig wanted no part of it.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!” Clyde has been apologizing for hours, hating when the boy was mad at him. Okay, so he might have told Token— but he’s apart of the group as well! And maybe when he told Token, Butters was standing by. Butters may have told Kenny, then Kenny told Stan who inadvertently told Kyle because they’re never apart, and then it got to Cartman.

In all, Clyde miscalculated the speed of it spreading like wildfire.

Craig wasn’t mad because of that even if his attitude saying otherwise. He was mad because now it was official that this was not something he imagined and he was stuck with a soulmate. The whole thing in its entirety was stupid!

On their way out the school building, he collided with someone after having his eyes pointed down at the ground.

“Gah! I-I’m Sorry!” A hyperactive boy with wild blonde hair fumbled to retrieve his fallen thermos. He looked around with paranoia, Craig taking note of his messy appearance.

“My bad, dude,” he offered to help him only because he felt bad. Not to mention everyone was now staring at the two of them, Craig even caught himself staring. This boy felt familiar but he couldn’t place a face with a name.

The boy stared at him in horror before running in the opposite direction out the door, pencils falling from his opened book bag with a soft chatter.

“That kid is fucking weird,” Clyde said, shaking his head. He felt bad for him.

“Rumor has it the coffee he drinks is laced with meth.”

Craig who never gave a damn about gossip, found himself wanting to know more, “who is that?”

“Really, Dude? That’s Tweek Tweak. He’s been going to school with us since we were kids... why the sudden interest?”

Shrugging his shoulders, “no reason,” which was untrue. He looked at his friends giving him off looks in return, “let’s go egg that bitches house.”

Referring to the science teacher everyone hated. It was Kenny’s idea, his bag filled with several eggs cartons. They were to go straight after school so she could return home with an unpleasant surprise.

“That’s the Craig Tucker I know.”

They walked in a group, Craig still holding on to an edging feeling, along with this Tweek kid who somehow progressed those feelings.

Why couldn’t he just live his normal, boring life?

....

 

_“Craig, what are you doing?”_

_Laura came into the kitchen with little Tricia Tucker babbling in her arms, the two-year-old trying to reach for her older brother._

_Craig was caught in a scene with a dozen markers sprawled around the kitchen table. Red, purple, green, black, whatever colors he could get his hand on. A normal scene for a young kid exerting their energy in a creative way. Though, what he was doing with them even stumped Laura._

_His arms were covered in sloppily written profanities._

 

_Fuck._

_Shit._

_Asslicker_

 

_“Craig!” Laura cried, putting the toddler in the high chair so she could attend to her rowdy son. What’s gotten into him?_

_“I was trying to tell my soulmate to piss off,” he explained in a way that perfectly made sense to him, allowing his mother to wipe his arm clean._

_He figured if he contacted them first they will never try to write to him, even if it was an accident._

_“Having a soulmate is a beautiful thing,” said Laura in an attempt to knock some sense into the boy, not quite understanding why he was so against the idea of sharing a life with someone special_

_“Are you and dad soulmates?” He acquired, giving the adult an inquisitive look._

_For a beat of a second, there was silence between them with only Tricia providing noise by hitting her chair with her hands._

_“Of course we are,” mustering an unconvincing smile, she took her sons arm, helping him down from the chair, “why don’t you play outside?”_

_“Okay.”_

_..._

 

The boys settled near a small lake just behind the town, some out of breath from having to run.

It was a bust. Before they were able to throw an egg at her house the police happened to roll by, sacrificing Kenny such it was his brilliant idea, to begin with; not to mention he held all the evidence in his book bag.

“Hey, where’s Butters?” Kyle directed his question for the group, surveying the area for their friend. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Who cares,” Clyde was laying back in a damp pile of grass, body stretched like a starfish washing out on the beach. He had his hands covering his eyes, reflecting on how close they all were to getting caught despite their multiple run-ins with the law as kids.

“Come on, Clyde, he’s our friend,” Token stepped up from his reign of silence, giving him a kick in the shin along with his signature look when Clyde said something dumb.

“Whatever, man,” shrugging and retaliating with a kick of his own, “Craig back me up.”

He wasn’t paying attention.

“Craig?” Clyde cocked his head up to see his quiet friend sitting by himself.

Craig had pulled his sleeves up, staring at his arm carrying the faded words from earlier. He remembers his mother telling him that the words only fade when the other washes it off, and it could never come off by him merely assaulting his skin with a Brillo Pad. All he could think of was how stupid this was and he refused to participate by writing back.

The bushes nearby shuffled, in stepping asmiling Kenny and flustered Butters.

“I’ll be damned,” Stan shook his head, never surprised with Kenny’s ability to escape the consequences of his action. He was even impressed with Butters who proved himself as not being a big pussy they all thought he was.

“And that’s how you get out of trouble, Marsh. Take notes.” Kenny clicked his teeth, taking Butters by the hand to squeeze into the misshaped circle they formed.

“How am I supposed to hide a car, dipshit?"

He goes round two. Boys groaning in unison. Token took out his phone to block out the noise, Clyde shuffled his way over to Craig; nudging his foot with his elbow.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Craig nodded, getting up while the others were distracted with their own drama. They got Tokens attention and were gone before any of them could realize they left; like they cared.

“God, if I have to listen to those three argue I’m going to rip out my hair!” Clyde exclaimed, flailing his arms in the air.

“Me and you both. Why do we hang around with them again?” Token asked hands pocketed.

“Because they have a car.”

“ _Had,”_ they both stared at Craig. Shrugging his shoulders which said: _what?_

“Whatever. One of us needs to learn how to drive,” Clyde said, implying he wasn’t volunteering himself but one of them; preferably Token.

“Why me?!” Token asked, feeling defensive with their eyes on him.

“Because you're fucking rich, dude.”

“Craig’s right.”

“You do realize my financial standings have nothing to do with me driving, right? That ‘your rich’ bit is getting old,” Rolling his eyes and letting out a breath of frustrated air; Token wondered why he hung out with assholes.

They continued down the road for a while, not really going anywhere, in particular, just moving as far away from the others as possible.

Walking was sure to give anyone an appetite, Clyde making his hunger known by loudly declaring he was hungry and they should stop to get something to eat. Get what though? The nearest fast food joint was still a way down and neither had the money— except Token— to split the bill three ways at a restaurant.

“Why don’t we go there?” Clyde pointed at the building across the street with a large sign reading: _Tweek Bros. Coffee._

“Really? That’s where all the hipsters go,” Token reminded, noise scrunching in distaste as he indirectly referenced to the people sitting by the windows on their computers.

“You’re a hipster, Token. Now let’s go.”

Opening the door with the bell ringing to signal another customer had walked in, no one seemed bothered since they were engulfed in their computers.

“Hey, there’s that Tweek kid.”

“Who?”

Craig looked at the register and saw that same kid he bumped into earlier taking orders. He was twitching, as he bid each customer to have a good day.

“This is going to be good.”

Clyde snickered; both Token and Craig rolling their eyes.

“H-Hello!” Tweek greeted the three familiar faces, “What can I- _nngh-_ get you?!” Was he always like this? Craig felt sorry for him.

“Yeah, can I get um...” Clyde stopped to let out a laugh under his breath, “Cinnamon Roll and...”

This felt wrong. Even with Craig’s experience with bullying kids in the past making fun of Tweek for doing his job was different. It’s not like he could help being how he is; the weird kid in the school who everyone avoided or talked about when he wasn’t in the room.

“What do you want?”

“Uh, Coffee?” Craig hated coffee, but he did not want any pastries.

“H-How do you want it?” Tweek asked, his pale frame shaking. Probably from all the coffee he drank, withdraws must have been a bitch for him.

“Um... Black?”

Remembering how his dad will always drink his in the morning. Tweek nodded, it was when he went to put his order in that his sleeve rolled down just enough for Craig to see the writing on his arm. Fading, just like the writing on his own arm.

It made him wonder about what poor bastard was stuck with him as a soulmate.

Tweek went to heat up the pastries and retrieved the drink orders. He moved around the expensive looking equipment with confidence, but his demeanor said otherwise; always resembling a frighten puppy or a little kid afraid of thunder.

“Have a good day!” Tweek told them, reciting the polite commands in his head.

Craig noticed how Tweek looked at everyone but him. Odd. Was he afraid of him?

“That was fun.”

They left, standing out on the sidewalk with the sun setting behind them; turning the sky in a beautiful array of pinks, oranges, and yellows.

“See ya, guys. I have to get home.” Token said his goodbyes, walking in the direction of where his huge mansion was.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Same,” Craig sounding indifferent. He didn’t _have_ to go home, but he didn’t want to stay out either.

He and Clyde began walking with their houses being in the same direction.

They did not speak much, the only sounds were the wrappers covering Clyde’s pastries and the disgusting smacking sound he made with his mouth as he licked up any leftover frosting on his fingers.

“Alright, I’ll text you.”

His house was up first, the aroma of his dad delicious cooking filling the whole block. Clyde explained cooking was his dad's way of coping with his wife’s death; just like how Clyde binge eating his food was the way of coping with his mom no longer being with him.

Craig said goodbye, his house only a few blocks down.

The thought of his soulmate never left his mind, eyes looking down at his sleeve with the sunset creating a calming atmosphere.

Again he wondered, why couldn’t he just live a normal life?

 

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig is still trying to wrap his head around this soulmate thing, all while trying to figure out why he's being so nice to Tweek- The weird kid he did not give a second thought until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters will contain more creek later on! Right now I wanted to focus this one mainly on Craig on the other boys. I hope you enjoy!

 

_..._

 

_Another dreadful day in class,_ Craig thought while spinning his pencil around in his fingers.

Clyde— that bastard— said he couldn’t make it to school today because he was “sick”. Which was complete bullshit because he was perfectly healthy when they indulged in two rounds of call of duty. Him winning all the rounds and openly mocking both him and Token for being shitty gamers.

None of it matter now because Craig was stuck sitting in a class with Stan and Butters. Stan sitting next to him and Butters in the front like the good student he was.

Craig did not _hate_ Stan per say, he just did not enjoy being apart of their shit show shenanigans; never quite forgiving when he and his three friends took his 100 dollars and got them deported to Peru.

Stan offered a polite smile to Craig, Craig giving a bleak one in return.

“Do you have to talk to Kyle now?” Craig asked, not able to contain his eye roll; Stan was currently in the middle of writing a message on his arm that Kyle would receive in a matter of moments, with that silly grin on his face.

“Dude, don’t take it out on me because you don’t know who your soulmate is,” Stan responded, finishing his message before looking up; momentarily greeted by a middle finger Craig was slow to put down.

“Really?”

Then, a flash of blonde entered his peripheral vision; head cocking upwards at an awkward angle so it would not be obvious he was looking. Stan was too busy writing back and forth to Kyle, but Craig did not want to take any chances.

It was that Tweek kid again. Since when he did take this class? Plenty of kids took art as a last resort elective to fulfill their credits, but Craig has not noticed him in this class before.

Tweek walked quiet enough so he could not be seen, seemingly failing because Craig could see him clear as day, taking the desk right by the window where no one sat because of the draft coming from the window. Even on a relatively warm day, those seats could be a pain in the ads because when the school turned on the AC a draft came from there too.

Craig watched him as discreetly as possible, though risky because that would require looking over Stan’s head.

Taking another quick glance, he saw how Tweek was shaking just enough to make the desk chatter and how he placed his thermos on the right side of the desk to grab and drink when necessary; or at least that’s what Craig assumed.

He had a book bag which looked awfully light, probably holding only a notebook, folder, and a couple of pencils. No offense to him but he did not look like the academic type.

“Craig?”

“What is it, Marsh?” Annoyed from being pulled from his thoughts, his green eyes met a pair of blue ones.

Stan frowned, thinking they were finally on good terms, “are you going to try out for JV football?”

“Really?” Craig raised a brow as if he was just asked the worlds dumbest question, “sports are for tools.”

“Wasn’t your superhero persona a tool?”

His black brows narrowed, head lifting away from the boy, “why are you such an asshole?” Stan spat, moving to start a conversation with the next person.

Good riddance, now where was that damn teacher? Craig slid down in his chair, long legs extending in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was a new addition to his once clear flesh that got his attention.

 

_Sugar._

 

_Nutmeg._

 

_Pumpkin Spice._

 

Damn it, again? Why was Craig fated to his arm looking like someone’s botched grocery list? He pulled his sleeve closer to his wrist, refusing to have the writing seen. While others proudly showed there’s, this could have been the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“Hello, students!” Their teacher walked in as cheery as ever; everyone convinced he was a complete wacko because he was the only adult in South Park who liked his job, a teaching job if that.

“Good morning,” students greeting him In unenthusiastic unison as groups dispersed to giving him their fateful attention.

Craig, on the other hand, could care less, his mind wandering as it has been these past few weeks.

Occasionally his eyes drifting in Tweeks direction which made him wonder why a kid he never once talked to was invading his thoughts.

...

 

_Clyde: Hey, Buddy. Do you want to come to my place after school?_

 

_Craig: I thought you were sick._

 

_Clyde: false alarm ;)_

 

That fucking liar.

 

_Craig: sure, why not._

Was his last message before pocketing his phone. Currently, he was in P.E.— well he was supposed to be in P.E. Craig only went enough so the teacher wouldn’t be able to fail him, even they knew half the boys skipped the class when mostly girls were in attendance.

Opting to wander the halls instead of his usual duck in the boy's bathroom— Craig turned the corner, seeing the usual scenery of lockers and then a boy sitting down with to what looked like from Craig’s view, a sketchbook.

It did not take him long to see the boy sitting to himself was Tweek Tweak. Instead of walking the other way and minding his business he decided to walk towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted him in a nonchalant matter, his hands resting in the pockets of his jacket.

Tweek yelped, clenching the pad close to his chest. No one usually walked down the halls until their transition period, he thought he would be safe here by himself.

“H-Hi!” His voice quivered with nerves, eyes twitching. He was looking at Craig but not directly at him, focusing his attention on the poster just to the left of his head.

_Maybe I should leave him alone._ Craig’s heels were about to turn, even his body was panning away from the boy; if only he could bring himself to leave.

“You don’t have class?”

“Ah! I do! - _nngh-_ I should leave!” Tweek was mid packing to make his grand escape when he was stopped.

“Wait,” Craig even surprised himself. Woah, did he really say that? Clearing his throat, “uh, do you want to sit with us tomorrow? You know, for lunch?”

That sounded much cooler in his head. He doesn’t know what it was; Tweek was one of those people he would feel bad for. Kind of like Clyde, but the difference was Clyde mostly brought the dumb shit on himself.

Tweek stared with his mouth slightly agape, his pale blue eyes wobbling; showing his mind was moving at a rapid speed trying to find the appropriate answer to his offer.

Argh! This was too much pressure! Tweek showed his conflicting emotions by raising his hands to his hair, pulling slightly at the follicles.

Craig took a step back, “Dude, relax-“

“Why are you being so nice to me?!”

“Look, you don’t have to. I don’t care either way.” He confessed with shrugged shoulders.

“Gah! O-Okay!”

He felt his lips tug but refused to show a smile. Clyde was surely going to raise hell when he found out about their temporary guest eating with them.

_“But he’s so weird!”_

Craig could hear him now, needing to remind him that he had no room to pass judgment because they all had weird ass shit happen to them.

“Cool, I’ll Uh, see you around?”

Tweek nodded, or so it looked like a nod. It was when the noise of others voices carried down the hallway when he made his exit to whatever class he had next, Craig figuring he should go to any of the guys caught him and asked him questions.

_Tomorrow will be interesting..._

...

 

Craig made his way over to the field, standing close enough to the fence so he could get a good view of the guys trying out for JV football.

Stan, Token, Cartman, and a few other guys he did not know or cared to know were aligned, standing parallel to the coach spitting instructions towards them.

“Craig, is that you?” A familiar voice caught his attention; it was Kyle waving at him from his spot on the bleachers. He had a book propped on his lap, his red curls bouncing up and down.

“Let me guess-“

“Waiting for Stan.”

Typical. Craig stepped up on the metal bleachers. Any other day he would not have voluntarily regarded Kyle in any way. Kyle was just one of those kids he could only stick around in short intervals before he felt the need to shoot himself.

He sat a few inches away from the redhead, his book bag still on his shoulders with one strap.

“I’m surprised you’re not trying out,” said Kyle, needlessly flipping through the pages of his book to see how many pages were left in the chapter.

Craig fought the urge to call him a nerd. Him, Butters, Token, and Wendy were the only ones who took their education seriously; the rest many came to school to hang out and maybe get high if the upperclassman gave them a good deal.

“Sports aren’t my thing. Too much of a commitment,” he explained, leaning his elbows back on the bench behind them, the metal freezing cold to the touch.

“Then what? You’re here to watch?”

“I’m waiting for Token.”

At that point, the boys on the field were dismissed by the coach, some of their faces dark with disappointment while the rest of their faces beamed with glee. Token was one of them in a good mood, laughing along with Stan as they made their way towards Craig and Kyle.

“You waited for me?” Stan acted surprised, leaning his weight on the rusty fence diving the bleachers and field to give the redhead a quick kiss.

Token and Craig made a face. Blah.

“Hey, man,” Token greeted, actually surprised Craig stuck around to wait for him.

Craig nodded. The truth was he waited for Token to get some advice. Since neither Clyde or Jimmy was reliable in the advice department, Token was the only one to give him logical advice. Logical and linear. Just how he liked it.

So when they were walking, Craig told him everything. How when he was walking around the hall he ran into Tweek Tweak _and_ invited him to sit with them tomorrow. Yeah, the whole thing sounded silly it was aired out. Token only listened, his brows knotted together with thought. Once Craig said everything, they stop momentarily, Token giving him a serious look.

“So? What’s the big deal?”

“That’s the thing, it’s not.”

“I don’t understand,” Token admitted with a shake of his head, “so you want Tweek to sit with us, what’s the big deal? Yeah, he’s weird but whatever. It’s not like he’s your soulmate or anything,” he joked, Craig scrunching his nose.

“If Clyde is who you’re worried about I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him to be nice.”

Craig didn’t say anything.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Token turned on his heels, bitting down on his lip. Something was on his mind as well in regards to Craig. Now did not seem like the right time to ask, however. Glancing behind him, he saw Craig already walking.

“Wait,” He said. He muttered a: god damn it.

“What?”

“Uh, you should really join the football team. We really need someone to compete with Cartman.”

Craig stared blank face, looking away once more with his back turned to the dark-skinned boy, “I’ll think about it.”

He said before leaving.

It was upon reaching his door when Craig remembered.

“Shit. I was supposed to go to Clyde’s.”

...

 

The following day in school, Clyde would not stop sending eyeballing glares in Craig’s direction.

At first, he thought it was because Token had told him about inviting Tweek to have lunch with them. In actuality, Clyde was mad because Craig had forgotten to go over to his house the day before.

“I just can’t believe it, my own best friend betrayed my trust.”

They were waiting in the lunch line, Craig’s eyes turned down at the once frozen products in front of him. Bland Mac and cheese, half frozen burger patties, stale bread.

“And _then,”_ Clyde had lowered his voice in a hushed whisper, “you talk to _Tweek_!”

The lunch lady slapped brownish slop on their trays, along with a wrapped biscuit which looked like the only appetizing thing on the plate.

“Dude, are you even listening to me?”

Craig rolled his eyes, “you’re being dramatic.”

Walking in the direction of their usual table where Token was already sitting with Jimmy, Kenny, and Butters— Who for some reason started sitting with them— Clyde was clearly voicing that he was not going to let up on the issue.

“We have a reputation to uphold... Tweek is just... Tweek is Tweek!” He cried, drawing unwanted attention from a couple of upperclassmen snickering to themselves.

They took their seats at the table.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you’ve been acting weird ever since you got your soulmate,” he went on.

Craig ripped into his biscuit, tuning out his friend in favor of listening to the other conversation going on at the table.

“Is he talking about Tweek?” Token asked, flashing a sorry look. When he texted their missing friend over the phone he seemed calm enough, or at least that was what his tone was alluding to.

“Yep.”

“I tried-“

“Don’t you talk about me like I’m not here!”

Token kicked him under the table, somehow the only one ever able to calm him down without making him shed any tears.

Clyde lowered his head to his plate, using his fork to play with his food. In other words, he was being dramatic.

Grateful for the quiet, Craig could not help but have his thoughts wander once more, his cheek resting against his hand. Luckily the other boys did not care enough to ask him any questions since they were too busy discussing a joke that Jimmy was coming up with. Even Clyde joined in— once again failing at the whole being mad thing.

The good news was Craig had not gotten any more signs from his soulmate. Perhaps they gave up when they realized they were not going to get a response, even though their initial communications were always along the line of ingredients for some recipe.

“Craig, 12 o’clock,” Token had motioned over his blue wool hat.

He whipped his head around.

So he did show up.

Tweek was moving towards their table, appearing as disheveled as always. Today he wore a sweater which looked much too big for him in oppose to his usual improperly buttoned shirt; in his hands he held his thermos, showing off the many bandages on his trembling fingers.

“Craig...” Clyde whined, still against the idea of them sitting down with the weird kid. Building a good reputation in their sophomore year was crucial to their survival as juniors even seniors.

“Gah! Hey, man...” said Tweek, meeting the eyes of Token who offered a wave, Kenny who nodded his head, Butters who smiled, Jimmy said hello, Clyde... was being Clyde, and finally Craig, who did not get the opportunity of making direct eye contact like the others.

“Hey,” Craig shifted over so Tweek would have room to sit, “I didn’t think you’ll show up.”

Taking his sit on the table filled with the many occupants he would never think of talking too, anxious would be an understatement. Even with hours of Tweek convincing himself of this being a bad idea he was drawn in by some indescribable force— that force being Craig Tucker.

He thought Craig hated him! Especially after all those times he would pick on him with Cartman's gang. The same gang who were now casting him strange looks from across the lunch room.

Maybe Craig forgot. Tweek glanced next to him, not realizing Craig was already staring. Quickly he looked away.

“So...” Thankfully Token was the one to slice through the tension, “Tweek, why the bandages?”

Jumping to attention, Tweek listened to his question then looked at his fingers, bending them slightly, “sometimes I- _nngh-_ burn my fingers while making coffee.”

“Wow, that must be all the time,” Clyde mused, picking up a limp green bean with his fork.

“Is it true that you put meth in your coffee?”

Token nudged him hard, “Dude!”

“What?! I just want to know why he acts the way he does!”

“But you just don’t ask him that!”

While the two went back and forth, Tweek was stuck with the decision of excusing himself or staying. On the one hand, he knew it would be best to not stay where he wasn’t wanted. On the other, Craig had invited him and he promised to stay—he never backed out on a promise.

“Whatever, you assholes have fun with whatever this is,” Clyde circled his hand over their heads, eyes landing on Craig who stared back at him calmly, “I’m going to find Bebe.”

He was off, pushing at the closed double doors. Token sighed, standing up with his paper bag balled up in his hand, “I should be off too. I want to cram in more studying for that test I have next period.”

Craig snorted, “Nerd,” he teased.

“Us too fellers. We have a group project.”

“A-And I w-w-want to- to submit my p-paper in early.”

They all left, leaving only Tweek and Craig alone at the lunch table with 20 minutes remaining in their lunch period.

Oh god, they all left because he was here, Tweek knew it. So what was this? Was this just a plan for Craig to publicly humiliate him in front of their peers? And why was he so calm? Argh! He did not know what to do and now Craig was staring at him again— what did he want? That’s what Tweek hated, he couldn’t read Craig. When he looked at everyone else he knew what they were thinking before they said anything; with Craig, it was like looking into a hole full of mysteries.

“Did you bring lunch?” Was Craig’s question, seeing as he did not have his own bagged lunch or school lunch.

“Oh, uh...” Tweek wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, leaving a light smug of paint that must have been left over from his art session. It was a green, like the color of fresh grass.

“ _Nngh-_ I usually don’t eat lunch-“

Craig surprised himself by giving him half of the biscuit he’s been breaking apart since the beginning of the lunch period.

“It’s dry as hell but edible.”

“Uh, Thanks, man.”

Tweek took the biscuit, not eating it but holding it in his hand. Even without looking he could feel the eyes of the lunchroom on him, causing his cheeks to heat up.

“I-I have to go...” His words hurried out of his mouth, body out of the seat before Craig could say anything else.

What could he have said? Don’t go? Wait? He did not care if everyone else whispered under their breaths, they need to mind their fucking business anyway.

The lunch bell went off then, students packing up to head to the next class. Craig moved slowly, only going through the motions of acting like a student giving a shit about their next class. His mind felt blurred with things he never thought of before... maybe Clyde was right— for once. He has been acting out of character since he found out about his soulmate.

Tch. Craig exited the cafeteria, mind already tuning out before he’s reached his next class. History again.

He just needed this day to be over.

...

 

“Craig.”

He closed his locker, revealing Token standing there dressed in his football attire.

“If this is another attempt to get me to join...”

“It’s Clyde,” Token shoulders lowered on the contrary to his shoulder pads. For once he looked tired, and not the sleepy tired but the defeated tired. Stressed would be an understatement.

“Where is he?” Craig demanded with little question. The vibe he was getting from Token suggested something happened.

When it came to Clyde that something could mean anything.

Token lead him to the boy's locker room. It was relatively empty with the exception of a few of the guys putting together their last-minute gear.

Stan was by the bench with one foot propped up to tie his shoes. When he saw the two boys approach he did not say anything, only leaving the room and telling the others to follow.

It smelled of cheap cologne and gym socks— the smells assaulting his nostrils all at once.

“I have to get to practice, but he’s over there,” Token said, patting his hand on Craig’s shoulder, “good luck, buddy.”

Craig wondered why he was always the one to deal with this shit. He loved Clyde— he was the brother he never wanted and told him to fuck off repeatedly but at the end gave in and learned to love. He would do anything for the kid. It was when he went around the corner and saw Clyde on the floor pathetically weeping that an instinct kicked in.

He kneeled down in front of him, not making his presence known in caution of frightening the boy.

“I was waiting for you to get here...” Clyde sniffled, wiping his arm over his nose. It was gross, really. With the disgusting sounds he was making, Craig tried hard to keep a poker face.

He didn’t do crying, not even Clyde’s crying.

“What happened?”

Clyde hiccuped, lifting his head from his knees with bloodshot brown eyes and dried up tear marks on his cheeks. He resembled a small child attempting to shield himself from the world. Out of the many years, Craig has known him he was never afraid of showing his emotions, something he’s learned to live with.

“It’s Bebe... she’s not... she’s not my soulmate.”

Craig sat on his bottom when he knees ached with the pressure they were withholding. He had his suspicions— everyone in their grade did. When Clyde wasn’t around the guys were convinced that Bebe was just using him because Clyde was so stupidly in love and bought her everything she wanted.

“She told me last period. She said she couldn’t do it anymore, that the guilt was killing her,” he went on to recite the exact words she told him, “I know you don’t believe in this soulmate shit but it fucking hurts, dude.”

“At least there’s a bright side to all this.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Clyde asked, face filled with a dreaded solemn much different from his usual cheerful self.

“You still have a soulmate. It’s just not Bebe,” was Craig’s reason, always the logical thinker to bring Clyde out of his emotional haze.

“I guess so. But with Bebe, it felt right. When you’re in love you’re _in_ love. My mom would tell me that all the time.”

“It sounds like you’re contradicting yourself since you’re the number one advocate for soulmates.”

Clyde pulled one of Craig’s numbers and flipped him the bird, already feeling better by hearing his dry humor. It did not make him feel less like an idiot, but at least he was smiling genuinely.

Sighing, “I feel like such a dumbass. I spent nearly all my mom's life insurance money to buy Bebe gifts... that money was supposed to be for College.”

Craig relaxed, stretching his legs out until his feet were touching the wall; his elbows resting on the bench. It felt like old times with them sitting here together— not that things have changed between them except for age and new friends. In the end, it was always them.

“You are a dumbass. You just can’t help it.”

“Fuck off. My dad is going to kill me.” Clyde rubbed his hands over his face, groaning loud. His eyes darted from the ceiling then to Craig who was busy looking away, his lips parted enough for his blue braces to be seen.

It was the green mark stationed on his face which caught Clyde’s attention.

“You got something on your face.”

“Huh? Oh,” Craig rubbed at his cheek with his thumb, “is it gone?”

“Hmm, not exactly,” Clyde said.

He wiped again with his thumb, stopping to regard the strange look he was receiving.

“What?”

“Your arm.”

It was no surprise when he saw another unwanted list of items invading his skin.

 

_Sage._

 

_Salt._

 

_Socks._

 

“At least there’s still your soulmate,” Clyde sighed, leaning back against the metal locker. He was half dressed in football gear, about ready to try out after learning he missed it when he was out “sick”. He was never going to get on the team now, especially not after this shocking development breaking his heart.

“Forget about me,” he pulled down his sleeve, stretching the fabric over his hands, “you have practice to get to.”

“But I’m not even on the team,” he whined, reflecting from his shattered hopes and dreams of ever getting a letterman jacket.

“Stop being a pussy,” Craig pushed himself off the ground, then reached a hand out to help his friend, “forget about Bebe. You’ll never be one of those douchebag jocks if you sit around.”

“Hey!” Clyde smiled, “I don’t want to be a douchebag jock.”

“And I don’t want a soulmate. Get out there, Donovan.”

Clyde nodded, his wave of sadness temporarily subdued with a twinge of inspiration. He put his helmet on his head, it fits like a glove. Perhaps he could take the necessary steps to getting over Bebe after all.

“Thanks, Craig.”

Craig shook his head, “don’t mention it.”

...

 

_“Guys, check it out!”_

_They were in the fourth grade, Stan and Kyle appeared before Craig and his gang of friends._

_“Yeah, look!” Kyle stepped forward, the sleeve of his jacket rolled up to his elbow. He held a pen in his other hand._

_“If you’re going to stab yourself please refrain from doing it in front of us,” Craig told the red-headed boy, never the one to want to entertain any of their shenanigans. He was about to tell Clyde and Token to come on, but they stood there watching._

_“No, dude. Stan, show them yours.”_

_Stan held out his own arm, the four boys witnessing the writing appear on his pale flesh._

_“No way,” Clyde stared fascinated, the stars in his eyes shining brightly._

_“Wait, so you two are...?”_

_“Yep!” The two boys said I’m proud unison, exchanging a happy look. Deep down they both knew they were soulmates, but it being official only eliminated the fears of them having someone else as soulmates._

_“Well, it’s official. The only one in the grade without a soulmate is Craig,” Token chuckled. Even he had a soulmate; for the most part, he kept it under wraps due to his private nature but everyone knew._

_Clyde patted darkened faced Craig on the back, “lighten up. You’re just a late bloomer.”_

_“I really do hate you guys.”_

_..._

 

Craig was finally walking home after an extra hour of being in school much longer then he needed to be— the things he did for his friends. As exhausting as it was he knew what he signed up for when he decided to make friends. He always had to be the logical one to calm down all of their personalities; luckily he had Token to sometimes take over the role of being the voice of reason.

The sun was setting again, the days becoming much shorter due to the changing seasons— now if Craig could only remember if daylight savings would mean he would gain or lose an hour of sleep.

He kicked away an empty cab of energy drink, opting to take the long way home— the path going along the woods which no one took because of legends of it being haunted— since he was in no rush to talk to his parents who were undoubtedly waiting to ask him about his day. His answers were always the same, a boring day, just like he liked it.

A chill touched the back of his neck, sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. Craig did not believe in all that paranormal bullshit just like how he did not believe in soulmates; the one thing he did believe in was aliens, but only because they were real. Area 51 be damned, the government was always hiding something.

To the right of his peripheral vision, a glowing light cast in the woods caught his attention. It was dim with just enough light to be seen by anyone passing by.

“Hmm...” it could have been a group of juniors smoking, they always did it behind the school or in the woods, along with a lot of other things.

A lot of crazy shit happened in these woods, and if Craig remembered correctly this is where some of the guy's dads went to do their gay witch party in the two weeks of October.

And as much as Craig hated sticking his nose in something that did not involve him, he had an unexplained urge to investigate. He did not want to go home anyway so he might as well.

Craig ventured into the woods, knocking away three branches, spider webs, and whatever else was in his path; he even came across a few empty bottles and broken lighters. The further in he went, the brighter the light became.

He ducked behind a nearby tree, “what the fuck?”

There was only one boy standing before him, chanting something over again with candles scattered around the floor.

Wait a minute... Craig squinted, moving in closer with his hands and knees.

“Tweek?”

A loud scream was followed by something falling in a pile of leaves, crushing them promptly.

“C-Craig?!”

 

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Also, I made a Tumblr: magicalcreeks
> 
> fill free to shoot me a message or a follow if you have any questions! Thank You!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Craig finds Tweek in the forest conducting a strange ceremony, his conflicting feelings worsen when he meets with him again after school near the greenhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long and I apologize for it being short!
> 
> My Tumblr is "magicalcreeks" so if you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask! 
> 
> Enjoy!

...

 

Tweek mindlessly swept the floor of the shop, sending an occasional eye to the clock on the wall— it was a few minutes off; if he left now he would still have time.

“Argh! Dad!” He approached his father by the register, reluctant to disturb him while he counted the money. He’s done all his choirs around the shop plus he served the customers that came in.

He opened his mouth to speak, “Alright, son. You can go now. Just remember to be home before it’s dark,” Richard intersected, hitting the stacked bills on the surface to straighten it out.

Immediately Tweek unraveled the knot on the back of the apron as he held one hand out to push open the storage door. The broom he once held falling before his feet. He needed to move fast while the sun was still out and he could confidently navigate his way through the forest with little trouble.

Sliding up his sleeve, he had written the directions on his arm to remember.

 

_North, tall tree_

 

_West, big rock_

 

It was enough for him to understand. His fingers twitched with the jittery nerves he felt— Gah! This had to go right!

With that, he grabbed his book bag and a journal that has seen better days. It was packed with loose papers, tattered at the ends, and the spine incredibly worn.

He had to make it.

...

Craig pushed himself off the ground with the palm of his hands, then brushed off the debris on his black joggers. His mouth was slightly agape, opening and closing like a trap door with the light from the candles catching a glistening reflection from his braces.

He had to blink to make sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him but each time he “cleared” his sight he would only see Tweek standing there— trembling from either the chilled air or the fear of being caught and potentially exposed. Craig stepped closer with slow tentative steps, apprehensive of what he could be walking into.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked in a way that did not come off as demeaning, hands shoved in his pockets as he surveyed the surrounding area.

“I should be asking you the same question, man!” Tweek was caught, this was it, he could handle Craig’s friends finding out and them all calling him a freak— what he could not handle was having to tell Craig the truth.

This was the first time he had looked him in the eyes and now he could see why anyone who’s ever crossed him cowered in fear. His expression was unreadable but his eyes held a frosty bite that nipped at Tweek in an uncomfortable way.

In a fit of pure panic, Tweek fell to his knees to retrieve his fallen journal. Hurriedly flipping through the pages— Christ! It was too late. He did not get to finish in time and now...

He let out a muffled scream, the rest going into the pages of his book.

Craig stood there awkwardly shifting from side to side. With Tweek, there was a lot of awkwardness he felt because he never knew what to tell him or how to go about starting a conversation, “Uh, are you okay?” He squatted low enough to hear his knee crack.

“No?! We’re all doomed! All of us, man. _Nngh-_ what if we die?! I didn’t get to finish!”

Tweek rambled long enough for his face to turn a light shade of pink, the dimly lit candles only enhancing the already pronounced bags underneath his eyes that gave him the appearance of looking sickly rather than tired.

And Craig had not realized he was holding on to Tweek’s shoulders with his head too busy trying to digest the information being spewed at him at a rapid speed. All he could say was with his own personal beliefs he thought witchcraft and anything supernatural was a load of shit. He removed his hands to unzip his jacket— for some reason, Craig did not doubt what Tweek was telling him, he just wanted to help.

Now unsteady in his squatted position, Craig threw his jacket over him like a cape, body nearly toppling into Tweek.

“You’re going to get sick, dumbass,” Craig mumbled, he could deal with a little cold weather.

“Argh! What are we going to do?”

“ _We?_ ” Finally, his legs gave out and he fell on his ass, cursing to the heavens as he did so. Did he hear Tweek correctly or had he finally gone insane?

“Yes!” He clenched the jacket close to him without even realizing, welcoming the always pleasant warmth to heat his chilled body.

“Look, Tweek,” Craig rubbed his cheeks with his hands; first they needed to back it up about two notches.

“Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on? If you’re a witch or something I don’t care.”

“I’m not a witch, Gah! Haven’t you noticed all the freaky shit going on around town?"

“So?”

Tweek shrugged the jacket off to get to his book. For a fraction of a second Craig could see the faded writing on his skin when he sleeve went up against his arm— due to the poor lighting he could not make it out.

_Soulmates? Witchcraft?_  This about all Craig was willing to take before he had to put his foot down— he had enough of this shit when he was a kid. Tweek was not a bad kid or anything, just different that’s all. He was no crazier than everyone else here.

Only judging by how shaken up and frantic Tweek was about not finishing whatever he was doing before he interrupted was an indicator that something was wrong.

Craig’s approach was always with logic. yeah so if some of the things he did not believe in turned out to be real there was a logical explanation for that— logically, logical did not apply to South Park and this shit does not happen anywhere else.

“I’m not crazy,” While Craig was busy analyzing the situation Tweek was busy gathering his proof, “Every full moon someone disappears, do you read the newspaper? full moons can only mean werewolves-“

“Werewolves aren't real. Disappearances happen around town all the time.”

“Grr- You don't understand!” Tweek growled in frustration, shrugging off the jacket with his flailing arms. when he stopped, he pulled on his sleeve so that the wool covered his hands, the only crazy thing here was him trusting Craig.

he closed his notebook.

“Look-“

“Arghh- stop being so logical!” He exasperated, “I don't need you telling me I'm crazy! something weird is happening, something supernatural.”

Bubbling frustration neared its peak in Craig’s chest and he tried his best to contain it. Right now he knew he was getting nowhere with this back and forth argument, it would be best for them to go home then possibly discuss their options— That’s right Craig had officially involved himself. He knew he was making a mistake by doing so.

“Tomorrow after school,” he decided, taking his nail away from his mouth— chewing on his nails was a nasty habit he picked up from childhood and could not seem to break. Craig nodded to himself for confirmation.

“I believe you, okay? We can talk about this behind the abandoned greenhouse.”

It was getting dark. The full moon shining down upon them mockingly. If they did not get home soon their parents will kill them.

“Christ!” Tweek exclaimed, peering up towards the sky’s to see the navy blue hue. He felt his eye twitched, then he gave Craig an agreeing nod.

“A-Alright, tomorrow after school.”

Craig held his hand out to shake. Trust was going to play a huge part and they needed to trust each other. For whatever reason, they were in it for the long haul. When Tweek took his hand and gave it a hard shake, Craig could feel the tremors.

It was going to be okay— was what he would have said but didn’t.

Everything was going to go right. Craig was sure of it.

...

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Clyde had flicked a small paper ball in Craig’s direction, his feet resting comfortably on the chair in front of him.

Their first class on Fridays always meant that the teacher was going to be late. Many had speculated he got high before teaching which was the reason he was always late, while others believed he was busy screwing the history professor; which left the class with full range freedom to do whatever they want without supervision.

Craig sat in the back near Clyde and Kenny who were the only other ones he could tolerate talking to. With Bebe in the class that would have left Craig to talk to Kenny— who was not a bad kid once you got to know him.

“Hey, are you talking to Butters?” Clyde snickered as he craned his head over to view the writing on Kenny’s arm.

Unlike the other boys, Kenny was lowkey about his soulmate even though everyone knew it was Butters. They have been soulmates for as long as Stan and Kyle; they just were not around each other nearly as often as Butters parents were awfully strict with curfews and hanging out with his friends. As strict as they were their attitude soured when they found out Butters was destined to be with Kenny.

“You know, they don’t even care that Butters soulmate is a guy... they just care that his soulmate is me,” Kenny had told Craig one day when they were cutting gym class together. Bumming a cigarette and venting about their problems, it was the day Craig knew Kenny was a nice kid who only hung around shitty people.

Everyone had problems contrary to popular belief, Craig knew that better than everyone. They just all dealt with it differently.

“Fuck off, Donovan,” Kenny watched Clyde blow him a raspberry, then he continued his writing. He never writes notes to Butters like how Stan did to Kyle, he only drew pictures... _bad_ pictures.

“Hey, man, is it true you got a job at the coffee shop?”

This peaked Craig’s interest and he trained his attention to eavesdrop on their conversation. Since he went to bed he could not help but to think about what happened last night with him and Tweek— he couldn’t tell Clyde or Jimmy. Perhaps he could talk to Token but whether or not he could keep his mouth shut was debatable. If Clyde pursued him the right way then Token would talk just to make him shut up.

“Yeah, I need the extra cash,” Kenny rolled down the sleeve on his favorite orange parka, then he clicked his pen close. He held his hands behind his head for support, “I’m saving up for a car.”

“So Tweek is going to be your new coworker? Aw man, good luck.”

Kenny flashed a wide grin, showing off the missing tooth he never got fixed; he had lost it in the fourth grade on another one of Cartman’s schemes. If Kenny was not so damn nice to nearly everyone he talked to he might have pulled off the badass look. His natural resting bitch face was already a start.

“Nah, he’s not so bad. Besides the job is going to be a piece of cake.”

“See, not everyone is an asshole,” Craig deadpanned.

“Right, cause he’s your best friend now, huh?” Clyde flicked another paper ball that Craig expertly deflected.

“And since you’re talking now we need to talk.”

Craig’s raised eyebrow and face said: oh? What did they need to talk about? As if the late night texts of Clyde crying about Bebe not being his soulmate was not enough.

“We need to talk about your soulmate,” he continued on— Even Kenny found the topic mildly intriguing and openly listened.

Craig might not have known or perhaps was too oblivious, but everyone was gossiping about his soulmate. The girls had a rumored list of the possible people Craig was mated with.

He gave Clyde a flat out no, turning around in his chair to face the front of the room.

“C’mon,” Kenny kicked the back of his chair, “Don’t you want to know?”

“No.”

“Guy or girl? What do you think, Kenny?”

“Hm...” Kenny inspected Craig from top to bottom, Craig growing uncomfortably aware of the eyes on the back of his head. He squirmed in his seat to readjust himself, “definitely a guy. With hips like that... I’m jealous,” Kenny teased while batting a flirtatious eye.

“I’m not fucking gay,” Craig snapped with grind teeth. He did not appreciate his sexuality being theorized.

“I agree. Besides, the handwriting is definitely a guys,” Clyde added.

“I see where you’re going but that’s not true. Have you seen Kyles handwriting or Tokens? They write in perfect cursive. Their handwriting is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Kenny gushed, his chin falling into his hands with his eyes drifting off into a daydreaming state.

“The shit that turns you on is worrying,” Craig said and Clyde had to agree.

“It’s the simple things,” he claimed.

Their teacher walked into the room with his briefcase and clothes askew. Sharing Kenny’s matching expression Clyde and Craig knew for certain what he was doing before he got here. Lucky bastard, Clyde muttered, opening his textbook to the chapter they left off on.

“ _This isn’t over,_ ” he mouthed over to Craig who sat engrossed in the empty pages of his notebook.

Clyde did not bluff, he was never one to bluff, so this conversation was bound to resurface again.

Craig was going to have to keep ignoring him until he finally gave up.

...

The school day was near an end which only left less than an hour for Craig to devise a plan to split away from his friends so he could reach the greenhouse unnoticed.

Meeting near the greenhouse would not be a problem considering half the school was afraid to go back there because of rumors of the old house being haunted. The problem was getting there. Crossing the football field was going to be a huge obstacle with the boys out there practicing. Craig was sure to be questioned if anyone saw him.

Stumped, Craig pondered his options for a while longer, turning to his arm which remained clear of any writing or pictures. Pen spinning between his fingers, he was tempted to write something. A fuck off would probably do— he’s done it before when he was younger.

At this point, his world was moving faster than his brain could process, and each day his life only got stranger. Perhaps this was only the anticipation along with the slight anxiety of meeting Tweek making him reflect on his life.

Tweek Tweak— Craig had no impression when he thought of him. Unlike everyone else he crossed paths with he immediately liked or disliked them, with the occasional indifference that he had felt towards Clyde when they met in kindergarten. Tweek was a special case— he was different.

Taking his usual route down the vacant halls with the subtle giggles coming from the more hidden corners of the school, Craig skipped his last class and decided to head over there early. At least if Tweek hadn’t shown and he was caught he could explain himself rather than getting caught with Tweek.

“Going somewhere, Tucker?” Craig’s ears perked up at the familiar voice, teeth gritting together.

Of course, it had to be Kenny. He should have been more careful, especially with him roaming the halls. With focusing on sneaking over to the greenhouse Craig forgot Kenny usually skipped his history class as he got the notes from Butters anyways. Why the hell did he look so smug? He approached Craig with his wide grin, a cigarette hugging onto to his ear and peaking out of the hood of his parka.

“You’re in a hurry.”

“I have asthma you, asshole.”

Kenny snorted, eyes locked on Craig as he followed him down the hallway, “that never stopped you from smoking with me before.”

“Not all of us are chain smokers.”

“Can I tag along?”

Craig said no. He tried to quicken his pace but to no avail. Even with longer legs, Kenny could keep up with him with no problem. At this rate, he would not be able to shake off Kenny in time to beat Tweek to the Greenhouse. Instead, he took another route, Craig making a sharp turn to the left towards the gymnasium.

“Man, I need advice about Butters,” Kenny held his hands behind his head, his elbows pointing up.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m the wrong person to talk to. I’m off the books, I’m only open during our gym period.”

“You skipped Gym today so I couldn’t talk to you... You’ve been acting strange lately.”

Craig panned away to cover his flushed cheeks. Why was everyone on his case all the sudden? He was himself, the regular ole Craig Tucker.

“Clyde’s right, you’ve been tense ever since you got your soulmate.”

“Clyde needs to mind his business.”

Kenny laughed at this, “yeah you’re right, but it’s hard, ya know?”

Was it hard for Clyde to mind his business or was it hard for people to stay the hell away from his? Craig could not tell which one he was referring to, nor did he want to ask.

“It’s cool that we know who we are destined to be with. It saves the headache of dating and trying to find the one. I’m happy Butters is my soulmate, even if I did know he was the one before it was confirmed.”

“How did you know?” Craig asked, slowing down his walking.

Kenny shrugged, holding onto the cigarette so it wouldn’t fall, “it’s a feeling. Whenever I was around him I could feel myself fumbling over everything. Feet and words,” he lifted his sleeve to reveal the new writing, colored in fresh blue ink from Butters pen.

“Well, I gotta go. This was nice talk, we should do this more outside of gym,” he patted Craig on the back, then took his hand where he gave it a hard slap. Leaving after this, Craig waited for him to disappear around the corner.

What the hell was that all about? He wondered, opening his hand to see a small piece of white paper Kenny had given him. Were they doing notes now? How cliche, Craig rolled his eyes.

_I know who your soulmate is._ The note read with his shitty handwriting— it was no wonder Kenny was obsessed with neat handwriting, he wrote like a toddler.

Craig crumbled it up and tossed it aside like it was nothing because there was no way Kenny knew who his soulmate was before him. This was all just to get in his head. Clyde probably put him up to this, this bitch.

Putting his hands back in his pockets, he was only a couple of steps away from the door leading out to the field. He needed to put all this soulmate shit aside, Tweek was his number one priority at the moment.

Tweek. His number one priority, could that sound any gayer? Craig groaned. Those assholes had officially got into his head.

He was not gay, and Kenny did not know who is soulmate was.

...

_“No way! You two are soulmates?” Clyde squealed with excitement, Craig reminding him that they were all very much in public. Apologizing quickly, Clyde could not believe that Kenny and Butters were together._

_“I guess so, fellas. I have told my parents yet, oh boy, I hope they don’t ground me. They said I shouldn’t follow my soulmate until I was old enough...” Butters rambled on, bumping together his two index fingers. His parents always told him he should not follow his soulmate until he was at least 15, not 12. They weren’t going to be happy with him._

_Kenny lowered his hood to put a reassuring arm around Butters shoulders. Even with them both only being in middle school, with them being so young and possibly a little dumb, everything was going to be alright. Butters face redden at his gesture and his finicking subsided._

_“How does it feel?” Token questioned, feeling nothing but happiness for the two of them. While he did not show it so openly like Clyde, he was happy another one of his friends were happy._

_“It feels amazing,” Kenny told him, squeezing Butters shoulders. Butters responded by leaning into his side._

_“Wow, I wonder who’s going to find their soulmate next.”_

_Craig, who had already checked out of the conversation, opened his locker they were standing by. Soulmates this, soulmates that, he grew tired of everyone’s obsession._

_“Well, Craig, what do you think?” Eyes fixated on him, such a specific questioned amid at him was odd._

_“It’s cool, I guess. Now you won’t have to do cheap hookups with anyone else,” eyeing Kenny, he closed his locker._

_“I’ll take that as_   _you saying_ congratulations _.”_

_“Take it however you want.”_

_Clyde suggested they should head to lunch before the period ends, that only being his excuse to interrogate the newly mated couple for 30 minutes. Craig allowed them to distance themselves ahead as he did not want to listen to them blabber about it. Instead, he walked with his head down on his phone._

_Shoulder bumping into someone on his right, “watch where you’re going,” he said even though he was the one not paying attention, seeing only a glimpse of blonde in his peripheral vision._

_“Sorry!” the voice of a boy apologized after Craig was halfway down the hall._

...

Craig stepped over the large weeds near the old greenhouse, moving aside overgrown branches and spiderwebs in his way. He finally made it with still time to spare before the school day ended.

Moving away another tall weed, Craig stops suddenly, sucking in his breath when he saw Tweek already sitting down. waiting for him.

“Tweek?” He questioned, feeling deja vu all over again from their encounter the night before. Were they destined to meet this way? Craig stepped over the last of the weeds to meet him in the center where he took his seat.

“Ack! You scared me!” Tweek told him, his messy blonde hair as all over the place as ever with clips doing nothing to keep them down, and eyes tired with heavy bags. Before Craig interrupted, he was sitting with his knees up, hosting the sketchbook he had from when they met in the hallway.

“Sorry. You don’t have a class last period?”

“I do! But I skipped because I wanted to be here...” Tweek trailed off, hugging his sketchbook.

Oh, was all Craig could say. His hands remained in his lap— he wishes he hadn’t talked to Kenny before coming here because now he could not get his mind away from Kenny knowing his soulmate. Craig sighed rather loud.

Being around Tweek was like being around someone he’s known his whole life. He didn’t hate him, he didn’t like him, nor did he feel that indifference towards him. It was nothing short than a strange feeling he could not describe, and he could not help but wonder if Tweek felt the same way or if he was just terrified of him; not like it would be a first because nearly everyone felt a type of fear towards Craig when they initially met him.

Craig would not be here if that didn’t mean something. If anyone else would have told them about their theories of werewolves and supernatural beings in South Park, he would have debunked them as being insane. But when Tweek told him, Craig believed him without batting an eye.

Over the last couple of days of talking to Tweek, he heard him out when others labeled him as a freak and Craig could not explain why.

“Craig, are you okay?” Tweek was concerned as much as he was freaked out by Craig staring off into space.

No, he wasn’t. Realization hit and he had an idea about why he felt this way he did towards Tweek and he didn’t like it. His face turned ghostly white, his hands gripping his blue jeans.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he blurted aloud.

“What?!”

 

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! as always comments and kudos are always appreciated! I'm going to try and upload chapters more frequently but it's really difficult with school so thank you for your patience. 
> 
> tumblr: magicalcreeks


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what a fucking idiot, Craig thought when he blurted out the possibility of Tweek being his soulmate... except, Tweeks reaction was not what he expected. 
> 
> Not to mention Craig is slapped in the middle of a friends crisis while he's still trying to figure out how to act around Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm going to try really hard to be more consistent with the updates and go for an update every week! 
> 
> Anyways, I wanted to clear some things up in case it may confuse some of you; while most if not all of the kids know about having a soulmate, a few do not because of their parents never explaining it to them- such as Tweek never getting the "talk" and Token.
> 
> Also, the next couple of chapters will definitely be more Creek centric. I just want to flesh out the other characters and show that Craig is not the only one burdened by his soulmates but others do not like it as well! 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

_..._

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Why did he say that? There wasn’t any indefinite proof of Tweek being his soulmate— fucking Kenny. That asshole was in his ear, and the conversation he had with Clyde and him in class. Argh! Craig reached for the yellow strings on his hat, a comfort habit he adopted at a young age.

Tweek was taken aback as well, losing the bit of cool he had left or tried to have, “What are you talking about?!”

Did he really have no idea? Craig glanced at his own arm, using two fingers to trace the top of his faint blue vein showing through his skin. No, Tweek really did not know.

Looking back at those blue eyes holding a rim of yellow in the center— almost like looking into a lost ocean.

“I- nothing,” _fuck._ He grimaced. His mother always told him that he would know when he’s found his soulmate, no matter how much Craig didn’t want to hear it. Clyde, his mother, even the assholes he was somehow always around. How did they know?

_“it’s a feeling. Whenever I was around him I could feel myself fumbling over everything. Feet and words.”_

Kenny’s words recited in his head like a skipping record. Should Craig trust his feelings? His instincts told him one thing but his mind said another, both working against him like two strong men pulling on a rope in a violent game of tug a war.

“You’re freaking me out, man,” Tweek had calmed down, making Craig wonder why he would freak out if he hadn’t known about the concept of everyone having a soulmate by the writing on their skin. Perhaps the general meaning freaked him out instead.

It amused him. Craig was seemingly calm about hunting for a potential werewolf and even Tweek sort of being a witch, but he was terrified of soulmates. Soulmates weren’t so bad— ugh, he was starting to sound like Clyde.

“Shut up,” Tweek shot at Craig in a playful tease, making Craig laugh. He _wasn’t_ a witch, and he gave Craig a light tap on the knee with his foot.

It was amazing how quickly things felt familiar between the two of them. They clicked like a closing door and being together felt like home. Craig relaxed after his initial fear of them being caught together by his own friends; his tension melted away with his back slightly hunched over. Tweek had an advantage by leaning against the outer windows of the abandoned greenhouse.

“I sort of have a plan, if you wanted to hear,” Tweek brought up his notebook which held all the secrets to his mind. Craig remembers the reason they’re here. They’re just kids sneaking around to figure out the answers to a supernatural force.

With only one, maybe two pages opening, Craig made out the sliver of incomplete drawings drenched in an explosion of colors. As another page turns he hears the crinkled papers rustle;  post it notes nearly getting carried by the wind, and muttered curses— “Craig?” Tweek called for his name again.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” he lied with his diverted attention finding its way back to Tweek.

“I, uh- I wanted to thank you for being so nice and- _nngh_ \- cool about this...” was Tweek embarrassed? He was twirling his pencil between his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, I mean... why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your friends are sort of assholes, man. I assumed you were by association.”

Yeah, Craig had to agree. Well, they were all sort of assholes but, not as big of assholes as Stan’s gang. Nothing could compare to the story of being sent to Miami and nearly getting deported to Peru. Craig hopes he can tell Tweek about those crazy adventures one day and have someone to laugh with.

“Christ! I’m going to be late!” Tweek cries, remembering he had to work another shift back at the coffee shop. He lied to his dad, telling him he had to stay and work on a project— to the relief of Richard because he wanted his son to make new friends and hopefully persuade them into spending their money on overpriced coffee and pastries. Everything having to do with Richard Tweak was solely for self-interest. It wouldn’t be the first time a parent in this town exploited their child.

They didn’t have a chance to discuss the actions of last night since they went off on a completely different tangent. Not that Craig minded, like he previously thought before, Tweek was easy to talk to.

“I’m sorry, Craig, I have to go! Can we- _nngh_ \- meet again tomorrow?” He askes on a whim not knowing if Craig would want to meet again. Still, he held onto a glimmer of hope.

He shrugged, “Yeah, sure,” he was going to have to come up with another way to evade the guys to do so. He watches Tweek push himself off the ground. When picking up his bag, Craig sees the familiar color of his blue jacket.

Should he say something? He lent Tweek the jacket the other night and forgot to ask for it back. Not that he minds. It doesn’t look like Tweek owed anything warmer than a sweater.

“Great- oh! I have your jacket-“ Tweek reached into his bag to pull it out.

“Hold on to it,” what a coincidence, he was just thinking about that, “until the weather gets warmer I mean.”

“Gah! Are you sure? I can’t be responsible for ruining it- or losing it! I think you should have it back...”

Craig holds his hand up to silence him. Tweek didn’t have time to argue, especially when he had to be somewhere. Heh, maybe he _was_ an asshole.

Tweek groans, his lips twitched upwards, hindering his ability to appear annoyed. He said his final goodbye, confirming the same location for tomorrow. Maybe if he left now Richard will let him off with a warning and storage duty.

When he left, Craig fell back onto the grass. Feeling the forming dew and scratchy roots on exposed areas of skin.

He was seriously going to have to have a conversation with Kenny.

...

_“It’s a feeling... fumbling over feet and words.”_

Craig held a pen to his skin. This felt as stupid as it looks, but his nagging suspicion pushed him to this point. Though his clear objections to having a soulmate felt ridiculous and even a bit unnecessary, he wrote something:

_Hello_

He wrote with terrible penmanship, the clicking sound of his pen resonating with a mocking reminder of what he just did. If his soulmate were to write back to him what was he to say? And could there really be a possibility of Tweek being his?

“Earth to Craig, come back to us, spaceman.”

He allowed his sleeve to roll over his arm, his eyes now on Token and Clyde returning to the booth with trays of food.

It was Clyde’s idea to grab a bite to eat at Taco Bell. The food helped him think, which did not work in Craig’s favor because right now he was out for answers. For Clyde to eat these greasy tacos nearly every day without his body rejecting it was a mystery in itself. Since joining the football team he uses that as an excuse to eat all the crap he wants: _I’m_ _going_ _to_ _burn_ _it_ _off_ _anyway_! was a weak argument.

Token pushed himself beside Clyde to adjust himself in his seat, sitting closer than normal with their elbows practically touching. Craig gave him a witting eye, communicating that he wasn’t going to say anything with a stare. Besides, Clyde was dense enough to not notice. Craig had a suspicious feeling this moment will arise again in a future conversation.

“Are you not eating? This is why you’re so fucking skinny, dude,” Clyde observes with a mouth full of burrito drenched in green sauce. His habit of talking with food in his in his mouth was repulsive enough to turn anyone away from eating.

“Stan is pissed you didn’t join the football team. He’s been talking about it for weeks, right, T?”

Token nods, unwrapping his taco, “only because he’s obsessed with competition, when it involves Craig.” He then mummers something about them being immature.

“I’m trying to figure out why I should care,” he rubbed his temple, taking risky glances at his arm. He wonders if he got a response.

“I’m not saying you should, but it’s annoying. You would think he’s in love with you if Kyle weren’t his soulmate... Besides, we barely see you anymore.”

Clyde snorts, “Yeah, since you’ve been spending so much time with Tweek.”   Craig’s heart thumps rapidly in his chest with the swishing sound of blood rushing to his ears. Shit, shit, did they somehow find out about him meeting with Tweek behind the greenhouse?

“What are you talking about? I’ve only invited him to sit with us at lunch,” Craig tries to brush them off without sounding too defensive. Tokens knowing looks did not help; Craig squirmed in his seat, stealing a chunk of meat that fell from Clyde’s burrito. He chewed while casting his eyes aside— he must really be hungry to think this food was the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Keep lying to yourself, Tucker, I’m going to get a refill,” Clyde bumped Tokens knee with his own. The curly haired boy slid from the booth to let him out. Then, He sat back down and moved to the inner seat so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting up again.

Token reached for his drink to take a loud, _very_ loud, almost obnoxious slurp of his soda. Good cop, bad cop Token had been summoned and he was ready to interrogate in the limited time they had alone. If they knew anything about Clyde, they knew him deciding on what soda to pick took nearly as long as him ordering his food.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, right?”

Not this shit. No. Craig was not about to play into Tokens mind game.

“What’s with you and Clyde?” Craig was quick to pull the trigger before Token had a chance to interrogate him. They were both notorious for being the most logical minds in their grade, with both being impressively smart with their grades differing between them. Token was on his way to becoming the valedictorian in about two years, while Craig cared less about his grades but knew the course material like the back of his hand. He was a whiz in math and science and sometimes had Token asking him for help when he was stuck.

There was something satisfying about seeing Token at a loss for words, with the inability to retaliate with his usual snarky remarks. Craig could have gone as far as to comment on how flustered he appeared but decided not to. Basking in his expense was surely enough for him.

Clyde returned sooner than expected with a larger cup in hand, “I come here so much that they gave me a free upgrade,” sweetly drinking the delights of his oversized Coca-Cola, he squeezed himself back in the booth, “what did I miss?”

He nudged at Token who couldn’t believe Craig had bested him. Like a computer freezing with a dreaded blue screen, he was in a literal shock.

“O-kay...” Clyde moved onto Craig who was sliding out of his seat, “where are you going?” He asked.

“Not all of us calls this place a home. I’m going home to watch TV,” Craig said, taking the pen that he nearly forgot.

“Really? How many times can you watch the same reruns of Red-Racer?” For as many times as he damn well pleases. He doesn’t care if the show ended when they were in middle school because he will faithfully watch the reruns, no ifs, ands, or buts. 

He so kindly said his goodbyes before exiting the restaurant, knowing damn well he was going to get harassed by Clyde later via text. Whatever. He will just do what he usually does, tell him to fuck off.

It was upon turning the corner of the block, knowing he was safely out of any prying eyes threatening to expose him, when he checks his arm: 

_Hello?_

Was the response he’s received with a badly erased question mark at the end still very much legible in blue pen. If he were, to be frank, he hadn’t expected a response after old attempts to silence his soulmate.

Unsure of whether or not that meant something of any significance, he rolled his sleeve down, doing his familiar maneuver of shoving his fist in his pocket until he remembered—

“Oh,” he said. Well, he’ll be damned.

He continued down the sidewalk with an unusual pip in his step. 

...

That same night his phone buzzed next to him. Craig let out a groan. He already told Clyde to stop texting him. 

He turns on his side to reach for his phone, managing to knock over the top cover of the lamp hitting the floor with a crash, startling Stripe #6 from her once peaceful slumber underneath the pile of straw. He heard the commotion in the cage and says, “sorry _,_ girl.“

Craig squints his eyes when the screen Illuminates on his pale features. His vision took a minute to adjust to the drastic lightening change to read the message:

_Unknown: Uh, Hey, it’s Tweek. Kenny gave me your number I hope that’s okay._

_Unknown: I guess I’ll see you tomorrow..._

He turned on his back to type his reply:

_Craig: Yeah, it’s fine._

The full moon managed to perfectly cast its light onto his bed. Craig snorts at the irony of it, a yawn taking over:

Craig: _keep your eyes peeled for werewolves—_

Was what he would have typed but decided against. He pressed back on his keyboard and wrote: _see you tomorrow x;_ tapping send with the accidental x at the end.

Turning off his phone and holding it against his chin, maybe he wouldn’t notice, he thought.

Yeah, it was late anyway. Maybe he won’t even realize.

...

_“When are you going to tell him?”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_Craig towers over Token crouched down on his knees to retrieve the books from his locker. What he hadn’t expect was a near 5’11 Craig to stand before him like a building blocking the sun._

_Token closed the door and got up from his knees, In height he’s beat by mere inches, “am I missing something?” Token was confused by the sudden confrontation, watching the space around them clear with everyone else going on to recess. They should go on and join Jimmy and Clyde before they got suspicious._

_“I’m talking about Clyde,” Craig was always quick to come to his friend's aid because he knew how oblivious and naive he could be. He tried having a similar conversation with Bebe when she came out as being Clyde’s soulmate but was soon interrupted by Wendy and Nichole who pulled her away for their cheer practice._

_Craig was not stupid, and in fact, praised himself as being observant. While he himself did not care about soulmates, Clyde did— he cared about it to the point where he blindly believed Bebe was his own when Craig knew for a fact she wasn’t. If she used him before who’s to say she wouldn’t use him now?_

_“It’s none of your business,” Token snaps. He_ _knew what this was about._

_“Clyde is my business and you’re my friend too so I guess that makes you my business as well. Look, you don’t have to tell him now, but sooner or later all this soulmate bullshit is going to blow up in both your faces.”_

_Token sighed, tugging at the hem of his purple sweater with the stylish yellow T in the front. He was only 14 and confused. For all, he knew he was straight. He dated Nichole for a while in the fourth grade before she dumped him to pursue her soulmate. At the time he thought she was the one, but how liable was a nine-year-olds view on love? His parents never explained the mysterious writing that appeared on his arm until that moment his heart was broken._

_Soulmates did not look at gender. It was complex, relying on unexplained feelings that felt right— at least that’s what his mom told him. Token did not experience that unexplained feeling until he met Clyde._

_“I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”_

_Craig understood, or at least, he tried to. When they both made their way towards the playground they hadn’t brought it up again. It only became a secret between the two of them._

...

_Cream_

_Soy milk_

_Sugar_

The cryptic grocery list appears on Craig’s arm the next morning during class time. He read it over again then contemplated whether or not to respond. With his pen twirling around his fingers, Craig leaned more towards saying something— that was what he was supposed to do, right?

“Hey,” Token came to his desk when the teacher told them to turn and talk. He looked nervous with his face either conveying him thinking or constipated. He chewed on his lower lip, an action so unlike him.

“Hey,” Craig greets. He feels bad about how they left things the other day  

“I think I’m ready to tell Clyde...”

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> scream at me or ask me questions at my Tumblr: magicalcreeks .xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. As always Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


End file.
